The stored supplies were indeed abundant, but the demon calamity had come far too suddenly and violently. With food production continuously declining and the population of the Biqiu Nation being vast, the daily consumption of grain was an astronomical figure. No matter how abundant the reserves were, under such circumstances, it was still impossible to hold out.
In the first year, it was still manageable—life was fairly decent with enough provisions. By the second year, all rations were immediately cut in half. By the third year, being able to stay half-fed was already considered fortunate. By now, people were reduced to two thin gruels a day.
When they walked outside, their limbs were weak. As for meat, only the upper class could enjoy such luxuries.
Of course, overall, compared to other realms, they still held a considerable advantage.
The number of those who starved to death was much smaller.
But now, it had reached a point of decline, even to the brink of collapse.
The people of the Biqiu Nation were naturally no strangers to the StarNet. Many of them owned wristwatches through which they could directly access the StarNet's outer network, communicate with each other, and even explore the situations in other realms. They were well aware of the circumstances in the Moon-Worship Realm. They knew that, relying on its own strength alone, the Moon-Worship Realm could at most hold out for two or three years before inevitably collapsing.
But now, having directly submitted to the Great Yi Immortal Court, the situation was completely different. Not only was the Iron-Blood Great Wall deployed to cover their realm, but a large number of immortal cities descended, and special seeds were sown across the land. In just one night, the situation of the entire realm changed. Refugees in ragged clothes suddenly wore fine garments, breaking free from the grip of hunger. Watching the live broadcasts of ordinary Moon-Worship citizens eating bowls of white rice and fragrant braised pork—
It was maddeningly unfair.
The gruel in their mouths suddenly tasted bitter.
Was gruel as fragrant as white rice? Was it as enticing as pork belly?
This was not suffering from scarcity, but suffering from inequality.
They had all been enduring hardship together—why should the Moon-Worship Realm suddenly rise overnight and enjoy a life they themselves could not even dream of? This was unjust.
"Intolerable! This is utterly intolerable! Why must we watch the people of the Moon-Worship Realm flaunt themselves on the StarNet while we gnaw on dried radishes? If it had been our Biqiu Realm that joined Great Yi, then the ones being envied and admired would have been us!"
"That's right! Once we join Great Yi, there would be no more fear of starving to death. Why don't we petition the court? If this continues, we'll all starve alive. What harm is there in joining Great Yi? The Moon-Worship Realm's example is right before our eyes!"
The Biqiu Nation was now swept by a tide of restlessness among the people.
That inner imbalance gave rise to a fierce yearning—a yearning to enjoy the same treatment, to become citizens of Great Yi, to live that enviable life. Once such a thought appeared, it was like a root burrowing deep into their hearts, nearly impossible to remove.
"Great Yi is roasting us over fire! Killing without a blade—this is an open stratagem, a strategy of the bright and righteous path. And yet, it cannot be avoided. Great Yi's methods are truly formidable." In the Biqiu Nation's imperial palace, the monarch wore a bitter expression.
Standing high above, one could see farther.
Many things became obvious at a glance.
What Great Yi employed was indeed an open scheme. Before the weight of righteousness, there was no reasoning to be had. With the Moon-Worship Realm as an example, the neighboring realms near Great Yi felt as though they were being roasted alive.
This sensation was unbearable.
The Biqiu King took a deep breath and said: "Send word to the Buddhist sect! We must immediately gather more grain and supplies to ensure stability among the populace. Otherwise, the annual incense offerings, even the very existence of the Biqiu Realm, may be lost. This matter is of the utmost urgency and cannot be delayed."
The only way to solve the problem now was food. He had no choice but to seek aid from the Buddhist sect behind him. If even Buddhism could not resolve it, then he had no other path. This was the choice given to him—and to the Buddhists.
The same situation as the Biqiu Realm was happening almost everywhere across the major realms.
Under Great Yi's blatant open stratagem, the people's hearts were shaken to their core. Not only human realms, but even the various foreign races were the same. Other races could not survive without food either. They too suffered from hunger. When everyone was starving, it was still bearable. But now, with Great Yi stepping in and the Moon-Worship Realm's condition being broadcast, countless foreign races also grew restless.
One by one, they were left frantic.
The Chitu Realm.
Over the realm hung a layer of national fortune.
This realm was largely plains and grasslands. One could see immortal cities, towns, and villages scattered everywhere. Yet it was obvious at a glance that the people wore thin, sallow faces—they were not living well.
Ruling the Chitu Realm was none other than a human dynasty, the Great Yan Empire Dynasty. And its ruler—Lü Bu. With Chen Gong and other capable ministers at his side, along with Lü Bu's own formidable strength, he carved this realm through sheer slaughter and war, renaming it the Chitu Realm.
Now, in the imperial palace of Red Flame City, the Empire capital, Lü Bu sat in grim silence.
Before him, Chen Gong and the ministers stood with solemn expressions.
Lü Bu's face was heavy with gloom as he said: "Speak. What now? Our harvests have once again declined. Relying on farming alone cannot sustain the Great Yan Dynasty's needs. Were it not for our access to the sea, constantly hunting sea beasts and fish to supplement, we would have long since collapsed. Even so, the fish are dwindling, and at this rate we'll soon eat the seas empty."
The reduction of crops on land was inevitable—only a matter of how much. Once reduced, it was impossible to meet demand. If not for the sea's bounty, they would never have held on. None could have foreseen such a demon calamity—once it appeared, it only worsened without end.
Even the seas were affected. The aquatic races became violent and dangerous, making hunting them no easy feat.
The situation only worsened with each passing step.
"The Pill Hall has developed a method to refine ration pills from fierce beast flesh and blood. The technique is simple and efficient. Using sea beasts, a single ration pill can sustain a human for one full day without hunger. It increases the utilization of beast meat tenfold. This can ease the crisis. However, consumption of beast flesh will be greater, and for ordinary folk, ration pills cause indigestion."
Chen Gong explained.
The pills used not just flesh, but also bones—the hardest part of the beast, filled with essence. Ground into powder, refined into ration pills, they contained tremendous energy. They could fill the stomach, though being bone matter, they were difficult to digest and had side effects.
Yet compared to death by hunger, such side effects were nothing.
"Distribute the ration pills at once! But subsisting on them alone is not a long-term plan. We must find more sources of food." Lü Bu's voice was tense. The dynasty had secret realms where grain was grown, but for an entire realm's needs, that was a drop in the bucket.
"The most reliable news we have is that Great Yi has grain—and in astonishing quantities. According to StarNet, not only do they have enough to expand, they even provide every single person in the Moon-Worship Realm with equal treatment. Their grain is visible to all—spiritual rice, and given freely. Clearly, Great Yi commands a staggering reserve."
Chen Gong continued: "If we could contact Great Yi and purchase grain, our crisis would be eased. But such a move would inevitably expand Great Yi's influence in the Chitu Realm."
Great Yi was no slumbering lion, but a tiger waiting to pounce, its fangs sharp and ready.
This much was clear from their swift annexation of the Moon-Worship Realm.
"I once encountered the Yi Immortal Emperor—he is a ruler worthy of respect. If the Great Yan cannot endure, entrusting ourselves to Great Yi is still better than being devoured by lesser wolves. Reach out through StarNet. Give Great Yi our realm's coordinates—they can open a domain gate. At first, trade will be our aim. What follows, we will decide later."
Lü Bu inhaled deeply, eyes gleaming.
These years as a ruler, he had felt crushing pressure. It was far from joyful. If peace and stability were possible, all the better. But now, the world was shifting, and Lü Bu naturally sought a path of retreat—for himself, for his family, and for Great Yan. If things worsened, at least they would have another option.
"Good!"
Chen Gong's eyes flashed with understanding. He grasped Lü Bu's hidden meaning, but did not oppose it.
Today, Great Yi was the strongest backer in all humanity. If they had no choice, it was better to submit to Great Yi than to anyone else.
That was the power of prestige.
Just like Lü Bu, many human factions were already preparing to reach out to Great Yi for aid. With the StarNet, communication was swift. Contacting Great Yi was no difficult matter.
In less than half a month—
In the Great Yi's Cloud Realm, hundreds of massive domain gates suddenly appeared, standing tall, shining with strange light.
As they opened, countless trade caravans began to step through in waves, vanishing into the gates.
(End of chapter)